


The Most Dangerous Weapon

by missm0neypenny



Category: The Hurt Locker (2008)
Genre: Explosive Ordnance Disposal, F/M, Sexual Content, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 05:09:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1675862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missm0neypenny/pseuds/missm0neypenny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She's the bomb I can't defuse. A powder keg of explosive emotions I can't contain."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Most Dangerous Weapon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



She's the bomb I can't defuse. A powder keg of explosive emotions I can't contain.

Sometimes I make her read to me in her languages. I may be a dumb, monolingual American, but it doesn't take a genius to recognize that she's brilliant. She chooses the novel she's reading or poetry that makes her sad or even children's stories. While she reads, I trace the tracks of her veins, blue wires glowing under the pale skin of her arms, winding around her breasts, branching across her belly, dipping between her legs. A tangle of blue wires charging her with life and heat. She could read every book in her library and I still wouldn't be done unknotting her.

Sometimes she's frantic in her sleep, crying, crying out, shaking, sitting bolt upright, wide eyes unseeing. At first it made me angry. What does she have to be scared of? I'm the one who's seen the worst of life, the abandoned limbs of children, sandy streets splattered with blood as black as the souls of evil men. If anyone in this bed should be having nightmares, it's me. But when I heard her mumbling my name, I understood that there are things to fear beyond losing your life. Now, when the trembling starts, I wrap myself around her, a protective suit to contain her implosion.

Sometimes, when I have her writhing under me, hot as the sun and racing to her finish, I pull away just to watch the anger and frustration flash across her face. With one hand, I clamp her wrists above her head and with the other, I travel her body, tormenting her with my patience. I comb through her fiery hair. Dip a finger between her lips. Pluck a nipple to its rigid peak. Ease a thumb between our bodies and press her trigger until she's screaming laughing crying cursing.

I don't know how to neutralize the danger of her. She's the puzzle I can't solve. I hope I never figure her out.

**Author's Note:**

> I appreciate comments and helpful feedback!


End file.
